Hogwarts Gets Sex Ed
by Chaos-in-sync
Summary: Hogwarts gets sex education,and Snape's the teacher for the job.What could possibly go wrong- especially when the Gryffindors and Slytherins are supposed to take the class together? These are the days leading to it and the countless challenges.
1. Dumbledore gets an idea

**Insert witty disclaimer here. It's basically humour, and so read and review please. Watch how one of Dumbledore's simplest plans, can get a thousand year old rivalry to come to a peaceful understanding.**

**X**

**Phineus Nigellas's POV**

There was a gleam in Dumbledore's eyes today and not his usual twinkle. Don't ask me how I can clarify the difference. He was up to something. Isn't he always? His mind was now centered on this article posted in the _Daily Prophet_:

**Wizard healer misperforms Caesarian charm and transfers unborn child to himself.**

Of course he was up to something, and Dumbledore was special. Unlike most Gryffindors, he thought before he took a step. You could say he planned everything two steps ahead, but I would gladly tell you_- you're wrong._

He had thought ten steps ahead. For example, when he sunk his teeth into the apple during breakfast- it wasn't breakfast. . It was an elaborate unending scheme of cycles.

When he took a bite from that green apple, he could see the students do the same to please him. And after breakfast they'd head out, but not before passing a rather disoriented painting of green apples, which would undoubtedly capture their attention. So they would make it worthwhile to pass around the shabby painting every day, and often more than never they would come in contact with house elves whose rooms were behind this painting. And so on and so forth these little children took time and patience to learn about the house elves and their past- often taking pity. Understanding would surface. So in Dumbledore's world, a bite from an apple would lead to world peace.

And for another mind numbing example, he drank 3 glasses of water before he went to sleep. He knew he would wake up in 3 hours times, which is the time when most of the students felt their tummies grumbling. Gryffindor's had distaste for certain rules; Slytherin's thought they were above it, naturally; Hufflepuffs took it in their responsibility to charge out into the lurking dark and provide food for the starving group; Ravenclaws couldn't imagine waking up with a hungry stomach- for alas, how could they study and lecture the Gryffindors then?

He knew it was around this time that the children would surrender to their stomachs, disregarding the merciless Filch on the prowl. And so Dumbledore would get up from his snooze, with a smile plastered on his face. He'd calmly walk down the stairs whistling a rather uncommon tune. Then he'd search for the loo, while chatting up with Filch. The students, who were unaware of their savior lurking in some dark corner talking about flesh eating cabbages, would then slip into the kitchen and request the house elves for food.

Now. Now. Don't think Dumbledore has done anything wrong with interfering with the thousand year old rules and regulations. He merely chatted up Filch, and in the fat book of useless rules, there is no such misconduct mentioned.

But of course, Dumbledore knew this all along.

More often than not, his ideas did not have much to do with learning, but instead accepting. His students could know about practically anything in this vast realm, but it was only for them to _accept_ it. And more often that not, his wonderful pearls of knowledge did not leave a much desirable effect on the students, but it was indeed a necessary evil, albeit unorthodox.

So what did the Professor have in his mind today by reading a simple article? Was he thinking of world peace, squib equal rights, more nightly escapades, free flesh eating cabbages…I guess you'll never know.

But I sure will, and I do (for I am above you by all means and standards). Today, he announced the plan with gleaming satisfaction in his eyes. All the portraits mumbled and cheered and muttered their agreements. Though I am fairly certain, if it were the other way around he'd still continue with his elaborate schemes.

I admit at first his ideas took me back, but then his gleamy eyes, made me think so otherwise. He knew what he was doing. Didn't he always? Well why aren't you answering me?

Sometimes I wonder, truly, does the old man know what he's doing? Sometimes I wonder if he takes a topic, and thinks of a completely unrelated one, and then flicks out a paper, connecting the points from which to take the topic to the unorthodox result. I do wonder.

But you've got to admit. Dumbledore's old, but he's got style.

**X**

**So this is my first chapter, and there is definitely going to be a plethora of humour to continue. This was just a teaser :):] R/R please and tell me if you want me to continue :D**


	2. Snape gets an idea

**Other chapters :Basically I won't make this like a parody, and I hope I can show that Slytherins can indeed be 'friends'. This isn't EXACTLY dg centered, for I added a couple of more pairings...most –unusual, but it helps with the chuckling ;)…hmm…MY writing style will be sort of like a parody, but the chapters and characteristics will not be too 00C, and yes THIS IS NOT CRACK. Thank you for the wonderful reviews ^.^…hope I didn't fail to meet your expectations in this chapter though.**

**X**

"Ah, I'm getting a vision… I'm getting a vision. My inner eye tells me… It will rain today."

The staff members on either side of the Divinations teacher that heard her make the prediction looked from her to the comfortably sunny and cloudless hot summer day- an owl flapping by the window dropping from heat stroke. Severus looked at her for the first time that morning, his oily hair flapping disdainfully as he whipped his head around to face her.

"I think there's something in your inner eye," Snape said derisively, as the rest of the professors smiled politely in order to hide their amusement and turned back to their meals. She looked undeterred, lowered her glass of Sherry, and started batting her eyelashes. Oh you must imagine how that would look with those bug-eye glasses.

_Why's the bat batting her eyelashes at me?_

"I see great violence in your future, it's in the stars I'm afraid"

There was clatter of dropped cutlery. Severus remained seated rigidly in his chair, his mouth set in a fine line.

"Thank You. I'll remember that the next time I shove my fork down your throat. Accidentally, of course"

Flitwick purposely dropped his spoon and slipped under the table, trying to stifle the laughs. McGonagall started choking on her porridge. Hagrid ran out of the room, with a huge hand covering his face. Snape felt a shadow of a sadistic smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

**X**

There was a swish of robes as Albus Dumbledore sauntered through the halls, looking suave and debonair. Okay, well, maybe he didn't LOOK suave and debonair, but he was thinking it in his head; if that counts for anything. He made a sharp left and headed towards his office.

"Cockroach clusters!" he beamed and in the blink of an eye the gargoyle moved.

Dumbledore walked in with robes of striking blue not any different from his imploring blue eyes. "Good morning!" He greeted the undaunted staff who made no advance to reply.

Good morning had been the understatement of the century- the birds were singing, the bees were buzzing, Hagrid's blast-ended skrewt had died, and the flowers were blooming as if on speed. But the staff was now locked inside the room waiting to reveal the poor bastard's fate as the SE teacher.

They all knew how the _evil evil_ man in front of them had an odd knack for passing off decisions among the influence of what he called _instinct_. So they dared not move a muscle. McGonagall was praying furiously in her head desperately wishing the beads of sweat that had clung to her forehead as a thin sheet of perspiration would not fall down. Flitwick was finally happy in his life for his dreaded height. Trelawney was drunk. Snape became acutely aware of the twinkling eyes behind those half-mooned spectacles penetrating into his cold greasy soul, as well as the insufferable itch in his inner thigh.

Then the dreaded moment had come. It was as if all the preceding events had been building up to this moment. It was as if all nature had drawn her breath anticipating the ultimate decision.

For a brief and almost indiscernible, and unnatural moment, the birds had gone mute, the bees had stopped buzzing, Ron finished his Potions homework without help, 'Shelly' flinched in her grave and the world ran out of crack.

Dumbledore lifted a long elegant shaking finger at his next victim.

"You", he chose; his voice ringing ominously across the high ceilings.

**X**

McGonagall had been sure if it wasn't for the reassuring grip she put on the victim's shoulder she would've danced out in an exaggerated victory jig, worth years of utter humiliation.

The staff cleared out, all except for the greasy-haired, sallow skinned, long nosed Professor who we've all come to know and love (to torture). Albus turned his attention to him and for a concise moment Snape felt a longing to shove the nearest quill into the ever-lasting twinkling eyes. But he resisted – his hand was busy scratching the dreaded itch.

Albus laughed. "Snape, we are truly blessed with the student body this year. This is much better than that off the last generation- or else they'd be fornicating like rabbits. Of course this has plenty to do with war on the verge. Boys these days just can't go walking around the school with their wands sticking out with Voldemort on the prowl. That's one of the rare things we've got to be thankful for!"

Snape shuddered and his left eye gave an unconscious twitch as the unwanted images flooded his brain in silent shock. "And what exactly do you want me to teach them sir?"

Even Professor Snape who took every delight to torture, insult, torture, degrade, torture, taunt, torture and torture his students took no pleasure in this task which would indisputably lead to questions concerning his non-existent sex life. He felt (gulp) pity.

"Next week you shall be teaching Gryffindors and Slytherin. Then Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. I want you to teach them about the basics of the reproductive system, charms used for protection, pregnancy, and of course a _healthy_ discussion."

"_Healthy_?" he eyed his captor incredulously.

"Well we don't want another 18th century herpes epidemic again now do we?" Snape became more aware of the rash in his inner thigh, and every time he looked at his captor's face he expected to see his traitorous thoughts embossed across his forehead. Fortunately, he didn't know.

"And what if I refuse?" Snape cocked an eyebrow in mock concern, testing Albus' authority over the perplexing matter.

Dumbledore gave a cheery smile, and _accidentally_ pulled out a Christmas photo from 1972- the one where a pathetic excuse for a praying mantis, prancing about with Sherry in one hand (three guesses as to whom) was trying desperately to snog an equally drunk sallow skinned professor.

Snape found himself mentally flexing a hand gesture, to the imaginary author of his life.

_Why don't I write _**your**_ life story for a change and let's see who gets more reviews?_

"Ah… look what we have here? I better put it back before anyone sees this…Memories are so expensive, God knows what would happen if they fall into the wrong hands" said Dumbledore instinctively putting back the embarrassing photo in his robes whilst subtly scratching an itch on his nose, "oh and Severus it's up to you and you alone to decide to take this job. I only chose you because I thought you'd handle it marvelously", he concluded menacingly innocently (how's that for an oxymoron?)

This time he pulled out a quill, scribbling to notify the houses with his message on the parchment. He dropped it abruptly in amusement at the realization-

"I can see the headlines tomorrow- _first Wizarding School to give proper sex education!_"

Severus muttered something under his breath, which sounded much like, "_Victimized Potions Master seeks assassin to dispatch problem-making bastard Headmaster."_

"And this will no doubt help the Gryffindors and Slytherins achieve understanding", he beamed concluding pulling out a shiny sphere from his drawers. It was like black clay, yet it continued to morph and glimmer.

"I haven't seen these around in a long time…"

Suddenly an idea struck Snape's mind- the idea every muggle teacher had on teacher-student conference day- an idea the author was all too familiar with at school-

_To hell with pity for students._

If he was to go down, he'd better take down at least one ungrateful dimwit with him. A cheshire green adorned his pale face, which was enough to make Moody look like a nymph.

"So I reckon you're okay with this job?"

A sudden bolt of lightning and a shudder of thunder echoed through Dumbledore's office, highlighting the eerie features marked upon Snape's sallow skinned face, as his hands made a steeple.

.

.

.

"It's-going-to-be-_**wonderful**_", Snape promised.

**X**

**Later that night…**

"Oh Fleur. Oh 'Mione. Stop fighting over me. You can share like good little girls~~" Ron was sleep-talking and he fluttered his hand cajolingly.

"Ron! Ron! Wake up". Ron fell out of his four-poster bed, and let out a howl as his head hit the hard floor of the dormitory. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

Harry looked down distraught at Ron and figured his dream was based in some whimsical place in heaven.

Or Canada.

Ron, rather groggy, looked over at Harry from his bed. "What's all the fuss about, Harry?

"I-I felt something. Something bad's gonna happen"

And of course you'd wonder what would Ron do after years of acknowledging that whenever Harry _felt _something it either had to do with spiders, death, spiders and no good whatsoever? He plopped back to sleep. Yup, it was definitely Canada.

**X **

"Draco- wake up" barked Blaise. Draco made no advance in waking up. "Let me try", requested Adrian coolly.

He cleared his voice in a threatening manner before responding- "YOUR DAD'S A WHORE!"

"I heard that Smith", replied Draco calmly lifting one side of his green eye covers to glare at Adrian. "I've always wanted to do that", responded Adrian and shrugged.

"Malfoy I saw something bad." Draco eyed Blaise skeptically. "If you're having that blue dress dream again, I suggest you seek Pansy's help not mine Zabini"

"No-it's not that! I saw Snape just now walking the dorms- he SMILED"

"Blaise I told you we had this conversation before, and Snape doesn't know what you did with that dress! Relax man!"

"NO. I told you its-"

Before Blaise could finish Draco had plopped back in bed. No not 'plopped'; _laid_. _Plopped _is for vagrants.

Pansy ran into the room at break-neck speed, huffing.

"I heard Draco say my name. Is it important?"

"No…er-we just used it in a sentence", answered Adrian.

Pansy gave a dignified 'hmph', and before stomping out commanded-"well…make sure it never happens again then "

"Boo you whore", Blaise muttered under his breath.

**X**

The readers who did not bother to read the summary are incredibly perplexed. Who shall we go to for answers in the upcoming future? Sybill, the praying mantis of course!

_This morning, class included students from Slytherin and Gryffindor this afternoon. I am most distressed about House Gryffindor – they appear to be a rather ill- fated bunch, I'm afraid. _

_Those Weasley twins – Forge and Gred– are quite indubitably going to end up in prison. I shouldn't be surprised if they get thrown into Azkaban after giving Cornelius Fudge a heart attack with an ill-placed exploding skrewt. They will certainly never graduate._

_While on the subject of the Weasleys, the youngest, Ginevra, has me quite worried. Her hair is a mere extension of the violence ablaze within, and she fails not to portray so when they mistake her for Virginia. She spends a great deal of time staring at Draco, and I sense that she is deadly afraid of the boy. Maybe she senses his doom, and fears that she will get caught up in whatever violent death awaits the boy. I have also seen his fellow Slytherins ignore him and look away every time he does that awful eyebrow dancing thing after a nasty insult. It doesn't suit him, and I can see why his fellows would be ashamed of that stunt. I wouldn't be surprised; I have foreseen that Ginny Weasley will try to follow her brother, but instead will join the cirque du freak. Something will go awry, and I'm afraid she is in for a most uncomfortable restoration with a burned esophagus. And somehow, it will be all Zabini's fault. Speaking of Zabini, every time my inner eye penetrates into the boy's fate- I see blue. It shall not explore any further, as if that horrible secret he keeps distraught the fates. _

_Her older brother, Ron, is not any better. I foretell that he will run away to Canada, where the natives will mistake him for a fire god. Unfortunately, his worshippers will also be cannibals, and poor Ronald will end up being barbecued, along with that girl, who doubts my abilities more than McGonagall; who is unquestionably doomed to a nasty fate. I have foreseen it one night peering into my orb, with a glass of friendly sherry._

_Harry Potter. Now there's a tragic figure. The poor child STILL has the Grim hovering over his head, yet I cannot pierce the mists surrounding his fate. My Inner Eye is crowded with potential deaths he could meet, all of which brutal and at an extremely young age. The boy will certainly never graduate Hogwarts and if he survives, which he shall not, he'll become a raving lunatic rabbit killer. It has yet to be determined if he will be murdered by the Dark Lord, slip into the lake or trip over the vanishing step in the north tower staircase and fall to his anticipated death. Likely it is the latter._

_I am expecting to see a whole fleet of Grims pirouetting around Harry Potter's head, any day now. But wait- what's that…I see babies too, and I see Snape!_

_Oh Snape! Merlin's beard! He's handsome face, and those strong hands, and those billowing robes are as seductive as they could get. Lockhart must be in dire shame (I've foreseen it) I can't wait to get my hand on his- (_Alas! The forsaken images. Let's skip this part, THANK YOU_)_

_I tire of writing now. My Inner Eye grows weary, and I must retire to my high tower to rest my precognitive powers. But I foresee that I will have more predictions to record,_

_ and every one of them true..._

**X**

**And the next morning, Gryffindors and Slytherins questions would be answered, and so will their fears.**

**XXXX**

**Next chapter- the blue dress and ball thingy….you'll have to wait to find out ;) I won't directly go to the SE YET, and also there's the special task that the Gryffindors and Slytherins have to do in the end : D R/R please. Thnx :D**


	3. The cauldron and the ladle

**A:n/Shelly was Hagrid's skrewt, I had mentioned it earlier, and Adrian Smith IS NOT Adrian Pucey. This is a different person~ ****The _bold and italicized_ ones are basically flashbacks and/or scenarios~ **R/R :3

* * *

**CHAPTER 3: CAULDRON AND THE LADLE**

"Sonorus!" beamed the Weasley twins, grinning from ear to ear.

"Come one-", called George.

"Come all!" added Fred.

"This is Gred and Forge bringing news for the 5th years and the 6th years, so gather around-

"And listen closely!"

"Professor Dumbledore has decided this year you are going to have SEX EDUCATION. Jordan will pass you the papers with the details soon "

The room burst with giggles and furious whispers and doubt. Hermione and Colin started clapping much to everyone's surprise.

"Pity- it wasn't there in our time"

"Starting from next you will have the lessons, and if this isn't worse enough-

With a swish of his wand the lights went down, and the only light available was plastered on to Fred's face. He lowered his voice down to a whisper and said none too lovingly "You'll be having it with the Slytherins and Snape"

"Sucks to be you"

The once ecstatic room now was filled with grumbling and growls as the lights came back on. Ginny swore out loud.

"And I thought getting the talk from Fred and George was hell!" exclaimed Ron conveniently forgetting to keep his voice down.

"Count your blessings Ronnikins", responded George. "We got ours from Percy, mind you! The images are burnt into our brains and so are his lame jokes"

_**Today we shall learn about the cauldron and the ladle. Har-Har…So listen closely and don't be thick like cauldron bottoms Har-Har…but since we're talking about this, thick cauldron bottoms aren't really all that bad…Har-Har**_

"Well maybe I WASN'T READY", responded Ron vehemently.

"We figured it was the best time to teach you to use your wand since you were going to enroll into Hogwarts soon", George concluded with a wink as Ron's face turned a furious shade of red

tinged with gave a hearty guffaw.

_**Once upon a Thursday, ickle Ronnikins was advised by his mother to accompany the twins as they cleared her garden of those pesky gnomes. But little did Ron know that those ugly gnomes weren't actually having a tough time playing Leap Toad or what his father simply put it as 'baking muffins'. Before things could get further out of hand Fred gave a swift kick to the gnomes before anymore gnome-lets could terrorize his mother's garden, or before his mother would gouge their eyes wide. Preferably, it was the latter.**_

"_**What was that?" asked the curious freckle faced boy. It was a question he would regret later in his life. "Ronnikins", called his brother George, in a sinister fashion. He exchanged hesitant looks with Fred, who added, **_

"_**It's time".**_

_**-5 minutes later-**_

"_**You see 'the ladle' is like your best friend and only you and you alone should use it, if you want to bring more Weasleys into the world" began Fred.**_

"_**Why would anybody want to do that? There's like 72 of us!" Ron frowned and protested.**_

"_**Oh trust me when mum's old and wrinkly, and she begs for grandchildren- it's either use it, or lose it"**_

"_**Why the cauldron then?"**_

"_**The ladle must go into the cauldron for that to happen. It's like a counterpart"**_

"_**What is it?"**_

"_**The 'cauldron' is like-is like er… Ginny's best friend but-"**_

"_**OH! So I put my ladle in Ginny's cauldron?" Ron squealed.**_

"_**You're as thick as a cauldron bottom Fred!" piped up George, before clasping his own mouth with his hand in fear**_

"_**Oh no…You're becoming like Percy…"responded Fred.**_

_**-15 minutes later-**_

_**"ma-ma-masterba-dation" asked a horrified 9 year old.**_

_**-18 minutes later-**_

_**"-and that is why you have to wear protection," said George.**_

_**"So protect it or lose it" added Fred.**_

_**"And that is the cauldron and the ladle" George concluded.**_

_**The twins looked at the horror-struck boy- "our work here is done!"**_

Now it was there time to pester the youngest Weasley, if they didn't it just won't seem right.

"So Ginny" began Ron throwing questioning glances repeatedly at her, "have you ever..."

"No!" barked Ginny, before a playful smirk adorned her face "and anyway… I wouldn't tell you the details even if I did". Then she stuck out her tongue at him for a brief moment, before drawing it back instantly.

**_Ginny who had recently turned fifteen last week was sitting on the couch reading a book Hermione had given as a birthday present, silently humming a tune. The rest of the family was packing to leave for Albania with Charlie who had also come over to stay with the Weasleys. Charlie had changed so much, she though to herself. It was true, and even though she knew she was growing up and so was he, she did long for the times they had spent in each others company- talking, sleeping, telling stories and spending dinners together as one big family. But that was long gone. Only small talk about Hogwarts and such chitchat existed between the siblings._**

**_Charlie came into the room and seated himself beside Ginny. His skin had a healthy tan and he was smiling yet looking quite solemn. Confusion flickered across Ginny's face visibly._**

**_"Ginny you've grown so much. I can't remember the last time we talked" said Charlie taking it upon himself to move a copper-red lock out of her amber eyes. Ginny waited for Charlie to say something more but he didn't, and she didn't know what to say. _**

**_"So…" began Charlie looking for a topic to verge in "anybody popped the cherry yet?"_**

**_The 7 year old Ginny shone on her face again as she smacked a pillow across Charlie's face seething all too evidently- "CHARLIE!"_**

**_"Don't get me wrong Gin! I'm just asking- as a brother. I need to know these things, but I understand if you don't want to…"responded Charlie calmly rubbing the sore ache on his chin._**

**_As a brother? Ginny knew the phrase all too well. No boy in the right mind would approach Ginny- a Weasley; trademarked with her fiery locks to match her temper, as well as the militia of paranoid brothers hot on her trail, much less have a good shag out of it._**

**_She squirmed visibly and uncomfortably in her seat, before answering "Nope". Charlie looked noticeably cheerier._**

**_"Gin, let me tell you about a 16 year old boy who wasn't ready for his first time. I think you have every right to know what goes on through a 16 year olds mind. Let's call the subjects A and B, a'right?" Ginny nodded with understanding and her eyes told Charlie to continue. _**

**_"A and B were both 16, naïve, narrowly missed Filch by hiding in the prefect's bathroom, and extremely horny. And of course you can imagine, which I strongly advise you not to, what happens when a cauldron full of testosterone meets a flimsy body-curving night dress? So after-er A and B hit if off don't-tell-mum-I-said-this, so yeah after A and B hit it off, B couldn't wait any longer and started putting back its clothes on. A looked into B's eyes and asked if they'd ever meet again. B said 'sure why not?' They never did. _**

**_"Then after a pregnant pause, B looked into A's eyes and asked if it was possible to borrow two galleons and promised to return the next time they'd meet. B never did._**

**_"As B was about to leave, A grasped B's wrist and turned B around. 'Do you love me?' asked A, 'Yes I do' answered B. But…"_**

**_Charlie became acutely aware of the imploring brown eyes-_**

**_"B never...did. This, Ginny is from personal experience and I hate it. I'm ashamed of what I did with that girl. She wasn't ready. So Ginny promise me, you won't do it- unless you're ready" _**

**_Ginny buried her face into Charlie's warm inviting chest "Of course!" she murmured. Just then Mrs. Weasley called Ginny upstairs to help with the packing. She pecked her brother on his cheek and darted upstairs. _**

**_Bill's form emerged from the shadows, and the darkness around him looked as if they were licking his creamy skin. Charlie gave him a look a acknowledgement; one that seemed to say you-should-really-stop-doing-that. _**

**_Bill stopped stirring his coffee and looked up at his perplexed brother with amusement "You know Charlie- that talk about you and Veronica was really brave and honest of you. Ginny must be proud"_**

**_Charlie gave a nod of approval and let a hand sweep through his red hair- "though I'd still like it if that bitch paid me back the two galleons…"_**

(A/N: Heehee, you thought it was the other way around right? Well...so did Ginny)

Harry was much looking forward to the lesson, even though it was with the last person he'd hope for -Snape. Truth is he had never once gotten the talk, or at least in the proper way, and a bit of a closure goes a long way. He was brought up by the Dudleys, and the only sort of explanation he attained was from Uncle Vernon on the eve of his 10th birthday which he was obviously oblivious of-

"Do not have sex or else you will get pregnant", he paused for awhile letting his purple ham-like face drain of colour before adding "and die".

He did not bother to clarify what sex actually was, and the fact that boys couldn't have buns baking in their ovens.

Harry wasn't alone. In the corner of the room was a flabbergasted pink Neville, and he slowly walked towards him.

Harry and Neville were more alike than what people actually thought. When they walked together, people would stare in amusement, and whisper behind their hands. Some would scowl openly. Harry could catch bits of conversation like- "what's the fat kid doing with the chosen one", or "who's that- fatbottom?" No doubt Neville had heard it too. Yet he smiled. _He always smiled,_ and before finishing his walk or talk would Harry, he would excuse himself from the company of others to escape to the dorms. They were so much alike- neither had gotten the comfort or love of a true family; both Harry and Neville suffered from expectations they feared they wouldn't meet; there was an insurmountable weight pressed upon both of their shoulders, and what made them alike the most was – that nobody could see it.

Harry put a reassuring arm on his shoulder and said- "don't worry Neville, you're not alone".

Neville looked up and as soon as the color came back to his face he responded-"That's beside the point Harry! It's Snape for Merlin's sake- Snape!" Neville lifted up and waved the paper Jordan had passed around- "You see this Harry-one whole week with him, and absolutely no other classes. I'm sure that b-bat's up to something!"

Harry bit his tongue and pondered for awhile before replying – "what's so bad about that? Take it as revenge for the last six years- seriously man, c'mon imagine his face? Snape and sex- they don't even go together! It's pretty much a win for us!"

Neville laughed hesitantly before answering sternly – "y-you know what Harry? You're right!"

Colin suddenly appeared, and started slapping his knees in mock amusement "Harry! You're so funny. You're like the next Christopher Titus!"

"Who Creevey?" asked Neville.

"Ouch!" screeched Harry "why'd you pull my hair Colin!"

"Oh, I did? Hehe, accident?" answered Colin none too convincingly, as he skipped away with a tuft of dark hair in his hand, singing under his breath -_You're delusional, you're delusional…Boy you're losing your mind…It's confusin yo, you're confused you know…Why you wasting your time?...Got you all fired up with your Napoleon complex…See right through you like you're bathin' in windex…Ooh Ohh Ohh boy why you so obsessed with me?_

Then he slipped into a nearby cupboard, much to Harry's surprise (and Harry's alone).

Harry pointed incoherently towards the cupboard- "did he just-"

"Don't ask", answered Neville lifting up a hand gesture in surrender, "we all think he's got a shrine in there or something and he won't let us says it's like a mini-Narnia...whatever that is! He's as protective of it as Hagrid was of Shelly"

_**What's in there Colin?**_

_**Hiss!**_

_**Let us in Creevey!**_

_**Hiss!**_

_**Bet it's a Harry Potter shrine in there!**_

_**Hiss!**_

_**Colin, why don't you love me anymore? Tell me Colin! Tell me- do you choose me...or this filthy cupboard!**_

_**Hiss!**_

**X**

Draco nudged at Blaise, and waved the piece of yellow paper in his face- "So have you recently..?"

"Me? I WISH Malfoy. I would've banged the living daylights out of two thirds of the female population at Hogwarts by this week, but I just can't walk around with my wand sticking around with Voldie on the prowl"

Malfoy succumbed to the images in silent shock.

"Oh and the fact that all the hotties are Gryffs and the closest ones are…" Adrian looked up at the ceiling with a vacant wide-eyed expression before adding- "…underage"

Zabini waited for a reply, and when he had none, it was his time to ask – "You?"

"I'm being practically raped by Parasite on a daily basis, or have you gone blind? I can't have a proper shag with THAT thing on the prowl. Really if I were to choose between Parasite and Voldie- I'd chose Voldie. At least he doesn't breathe down my neck"

It was true. Slytherins would spend most of their time in the Great Hall watching Pansy breathe down Draco's neck and continuously blow away the porridge from his spoon as he brought it to his lips. And they had also given up using her name in conversations, knowing for a fact she would turn up faster than Neville could blow up his cauldron.

_**"Oh, Draco!" Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he dropped his porridge and ran for his dear life, robes and virginity, trying to avoid the stalker. She had been after him all day, and he was getting so sick of it. Crabbe and Goyle had advised him to run, and so he did. He ran all the way to the Slytherin dorms, hiding under a pile of robes that were in the common room. He watched carefully as his stalker looked around the common room in search of him. "Draco, oh Draco- where art thou?" **_

_**With a huff and a puff, and a quick mutter under her breath about how she couldn't find "her" Draco she darted out to the Great Hall once more. Draco sighed in relief, and when he saw that she was far enough away, he crawled out of the robes, clearly disgruntled and visibly aggravated; wondering why he hadn't pushed her onto Shelly when he had the chance.**_

_**He got away from her **__**this time.**_

"But I know who you'd like doing that to. Remember the redhead from crackhead's class Malfoy; Pothead's chick?" asked Adrian sneering, and Blaise wondered whether it was possible to include so many '-heads' in one sentence.

"What is this? Somebody's hit the jackpot" Blaise added mockingly, trying not to show he was unaware of who Smith acknowledged.

"As you damn well know Zabini, she won't at all be what frequents my bed at night time." Draco said, letting an indolent smile form on his lips, pretending he didn't care.

Blaise smiled and raised an eyebrow, "I know, and I'm sure you're not as conceited as to believe you are the only one who'd share her bed."

_Jackpot _thought Zabini

"Zabini; Smith I am giving you three seconds to get the hell out of my room before I Avada Kedavra your arse" Draco's eyes are narrowed.

"What? I didn't quite catch you there" Blaise responded calmly.

"1…"

Adrian surrendered waving a rude hand gesture behind him as he darted back to the common room. Blaise didn't move on the other hand and gave a very Draco like smirk instead, "You really are thick sometimes, all that pure blood breeding and you didn't even get the brains out of it"

"2…" Zabini sighs, "Now now Malfoy, violence never solves anything."

"3…" Draco takes a calm deep useless breath. Not that, that will help; he'll still explode. Shelly must be proud.

.

.

"**WHERE THE BLOODY HELL IS MY WAND ZABINI**?" he screams loud enough to wake the whole bloody castle, he really does have anger issues.

"Now is that anyway to talk to your best friend, Draco?" Blaise winked and walked out the door leaving the blonde to fume silently.

_Ah_, Blaise thought, _my work here is done_.

**X**

* * *

**Next chapter- coming up~and tell me what do you think ? :O**

**Thank you all for the reading and the reviews :)**


	4. What's in a name?

**A/N: YOU MUST HAVE NOTICED- how much Malfoy waggles his eyebrows. Gets quite annoying doesn't it?**

* * *

**CHAPTER 4: What's in a name?**

"Oh just imagine how wonderful it would be!" exclaimed Hermione clanging her umpteenth number of butterbeer across the table. Confusion flickered on Ron's, Harry's and Ginny's face and they eyed Hermione like a creature from a distant land. In the back of Harry's head, he realized that he wouldn't be particularly surprised if she'd sprout tentacles any moment now. He looked around covertly to scan Ginny's and Ron's horrified faces, and they seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Finally!" continued the unidentified creature, "muggles and muggle-borns and us wizards would be ale to relate to such an easy topic. We could learn about the uterus lining, the fallopian tubes, the cervix and the-"Hermione's lecture was stopped by a stubborn noise being made by Ron. Much to her surprise (and only hers alone) he had shoved his fingers through his ears trying to block out the deafening eye-opening lecture, and sang- "Lalala"

"What's your matter Ron? Don't tell me you find this 'icky'. For Merlin's sake- you're 16. Grow up Ron" Hermione growled.

"LALALA", Ron's protest grew louder, and this time he narrowed his eyes trying to look away. "Ron! There's nothing wrong with talking _about the wands and the cave._ Even your parents-"

"LALALALALA". This time Ron had not bothered to continue with his toneless melodramatic singing. In stead he burst with the voice at the top of his lungs. His fingers were still shoved in his ears, and his eyes narrowed down to prying slits. The only noise apart from Ron's screeching had died down. It was only then that the entire Three Broomsticks turned to gaze and glare at the deranged monkey.

Ginny gave Hermione and Harry a glance they knew all too well. The sipped their drinks and looked away, and found the floors and ceilings artwork at its finest. It was a part of their Ignore the Nearest Oaf Making You Look like a Weirdo maneuver, which they had planned to rename later. After the questioning glances and glares had passed, Ron's insolent screeching had died down too (either that, or he lost his voice. Completely understandable)

"Ginny, what's the matter with Ron?" Harry asked none too lovingly.

"Oh him", Ginny sniggered, "he's saving himself up". Ron's eyes widened in confusion and his jaw slackened. "How did- how…di-". His sense of vocabulary seemed to reappear.

"Not only do you snore in your sleep Ron, you mutter stuff too..."

"Aww! Is that true Ron? Saving yourself? That's so cute of you!"Hermione inched herself closer and pecked him on the cheek. Ron eyed Ginny with an everlasting thankful look in his eyes as his face turned the shade of his hair. Ginny had conveniently left out the part – "_for Hermione_"

"Ron you are so childish! Do you mean to say that you guys don't talk about **it**"

Ron though for awhile, if that was possible, and responded to the question in what he found extremely ingenious.

"Well. Of course we do! But you know its like – I hit that. I tapped it. I squeezed those. I got some"

"Simple and efficient!" added Harry.

"Not to mention classy", Ginny added sardonically.

**X**

"Merlin's beard- can you believe it? They're actually gonna teach us how to do it!" Crabbe barked enthusiastically. The others around the table, opened and closed their mouths in disbelief waiting for some words of ingenuity or at least sense to roll out and correct the oaf, but none actually felt like it. It wasn't the bother.

Today was the boy's day out- Only Blaise, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, and Adrian Smith had tagged along, and fortunately no sign of Pansy. There wasn't much to talk about and the silence was deafening. Finally Blaise broke the silence by uttering a two-syllable-d damn, as he asked "who's that foxy redhead over there?" Malfoy almost choked on his drink.

Crabbe looked up from his little ignored corner, pulled a disgusted Draco closer and piped up all too incoherently "I think Blaise has got a thing for Ron Weasley "

"Of course not, you ninny," Draco said impatiently, plucking Crabbe's grubby fingers off his impeccably tailored suit. Crabbe shrugged his shoulders and picked out an impressively long list from his pockets. He set it out on the table and took out a pen and began to scribble. Smith had eyed it for a brief minute and he saw statements like

" When Draco leaves you with Pansy Parkinsin, Daffnee Greengrass, Milisint Bulstrode and they start talking about Wich Weekly and girl stuff, make annoyin grunting noises so that they will snap at you to leave and you can finally leave…Life at Hogwarts is not easy becuss you have classes, which are hard and not easy….When Draco says something always agree and grunt becuss if you say no he will ask you for your opiniun, which is wrong, which will make him annoyd…"

And now he scribbled "Draco dus not like Ron, so grunt at every redhed"

_This calls for another intervention_, Adrian rolled his eyes in disbelieve.

**X**

**Behind locked doors:**

Yes. Interventionswere no strangers to the Slytherins. Slytherins had always looked out for each other. I'm not saying they are team players- I'm simply saying they looked out for other Slytherins that made them look bad. That's why interventions weren't new.

It had all started two weeks ago when Draco's dancing eyebrows had gotten out of hand. First it had started off with one eyebrow cocking, but then Malfoy had discovered the existence of a mirror, thanks to his mother who spared not a single chance to pamper the blonde doll. It was then he learnt that he could actually lift both his eyebrows up, after adding a particularly inane insult in order to add the effect.

Must not question miracles.

_Okay, that was fine with us_- the Slytherins had finally agreed, as long as he was able to scare off mudbloods and first years with that, why not? Of course Draco didn't let his dancing eyebrows get out of hand.

But soon he started showing progressive signs of a_ddiction_. Oh they knew. They knew something was wrong with Draco; they knew he wasn't acting like the spoilt bastard who was born with silver spoon in his mouth/normal- there was something different about him now. He had shut himself up in the toilet without any answers as to why. He wouldn't speak. He hogged the mirrors peripatetically.

He used to slip into his little shelter when the first beam of light had penetrated through the windows (I'm fairly certain that there is natural sunlight in the Slytherin dorms).So in the mornings, it was no surprise to see a long flustered line of mortified boys, as he opened the bathroom door beaming and waggling his eyebrows like no tomorrow.

He had spent the last hour gazing into his reflection, and dancing his eyebrows after nasty insults at his invisible punching bag named Potty. But Blaise was the most petrified at the change in Draco. It came to him as an epiphany one night when he realized the Slytherin King Of Dancing Eyebrows, for that was his new name, had tucked away his _101 reasons to hate Potter_ book under his bed, along with Pansy's Christmas gifts, his mother's manicure set and a stash of muggle movies. This was the place he took much care to hide the things he hated or were ashamed off, and the only reason Blaise knew was because he read Crabbe's impressive secret list talking about it _accidentally._

"_don't ask Draco abut his mums menicur set under his bed becuss he will cry and hit you with it"_

He had hogged the toilets; he was a total disgust to the Slytherins and the male population, and worst of all he slept with protective charms over his lovely fine yellow eyebrows, so that they'd stay 'supple' and firm throughout the morning (which gave Adrian a fat chance to use his eyebrow removal charms correctly on the Sleeping Beauty).

Yes something was wrong. If it was not worse enough- Malfoy had stopped speaking all together…

"Did you finish you're Potions homework yet Draco?" Blaise had asked one particularly mundane normal night.

_A cocked eyebrow._

"Is that a yes or a no?" Confusion flickered through his brain.

_A smirk followed by two dancing brows._

"Was…was that an insult?" he eyed Draco incredulously.

_Another little infuriating dance, as Draco's smile curved._

"Are you calling me stupid?"

I'll just leave Draco's reply to your fretting imagination.

"Get back here bastard, and explain yourself!" Blaise had lost all of his calm and dignity.

_That was it_ the perplexed Slytherins hissed. This called for an intervention.

The eerie green fire that used to swathe the common room were now dimmed. The thundering outside did not cease to stop. Blaise made the final preparations in getting Goyle and Crabbe fixed, while Daphne charmed the atmosphere and everybody's facial expressions. But despite their outward stern facial exterior, they were performing an exaggerated victory jig, worth years of utter humiliation inside.

One night Draco came back from a solitary quidditch practice- unaware of the eye-opening silence to follow. His robes were drenched to the core and his eyebrows were waggling- "you wouldn't believe the weather out there!" he exclaimed. But nobody replied.

"Wha-what's the matter", he looked up at the group that was eying his every move like eagles, with big fearful eyes.

Blaise was sitting on the chair, leaning back gracefully. His legs were crossed and his fingers were made into a steeple, as his eyes narrowed down to prying slits. Adrian Smith sat opposite to him, sideways with his hands crossed, and a look of solemn disappointment adorned his face. Crabbe was eating cake- enough said. Goyle brought down an upside down book the size of England to reveal his stern complexion. Daphne Greengrass was in the middle, standing with her hands clasped in front. Her eyes were puffy and swollen as if she'd been crying.

"I can't take it anymore!" Pansy cried and fled the room. Her eyes started getting all watery, a very handy technique she learned from the girls in the Ravenclaw dormitories. She looked away from him and dropped her head in defeat before darting out, making a mental note to thank Cho Chang and Marietta who taught her this trick.

Blaise straightened himself up and walked over to Draco, trying to stifle his victory jig. Blaise shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, and put an assuring grip on Malfoy's arm.

"Malfoy" Daphne called out in a broken voice "this is an intervention"

"About what?", he stammered his eyebrows lifting in amusement, as Blaise took it upon himself to lift his hands to the flaxen haired boy's face and smudge his eyebrows downwards.

Blaise looked as if he was about to cry, and cursed Daphne's skillful hand in charms inwardly. He took out a green envelope from his robes, and handed it over to Goyle requesting him to read it. It was a poem graced with beautiful elegant writing.

Goyle opened his mouth, and his voice was of elegance and charisma, and it stopped at concise appropriate moments as the Slytherins held their breath in anticipation. The letter read;

"_Malfoy I hate your dancing eyebrow_

_I want to rip them off now_

_I want to put it in a bag_

_And beat it with a bat_

_Why can't you stop that thing?_

_For the proud Slytherin only shame it shall bring_

_When you harass a little first year_

_It looks like you're a pedo, dear"_

Daphne started to wipe her eyes with a green handkerchief. Goyle had a lovely voice- or her charms had worked endearingly.

"_When you make fun of a Weasley dim _

_I assure you, it looks like you fancy him_

_So please stop with the waggling_

_Or Smith's gonna use the brow removal charm_

_And you know how he gets when he wins- without harm_

_We don't want to watch the ninny prancing_

_So please stop; please stop Draco _

_Before Daphne charms your hair into an eternal afro _"

Goyle silently put the letter back, with a tear clinging to his eyelash, "please... stop", he begged in a non-convincing soft voice.

Since that embarrassing day, Malfoy had swore not to waggle his eyebrows again and managed to limit to only cocking one in disbelieve. He was making a great recovery, and withdrawal from his addiction didn't get to him that bad.

But he was furious inside and cursed Blaise for making him go through that ordeal. He swore one day he'd get him back and started searching through Blaise's every little habit and possible misconduct. But no- Blaise was little miss perfect. He had impeccable style, and no annoying facial expressions whatsoever. _Damn _thought Draco.

But his prayers were answered one day when Pansy went to Hogsmeade and the Slytherin boys had took upon the duty to discover the secret behind Snape's billowing robes. It didn't help that they couldn't find a single charm on it- not even Draco's suck-up routines had any effect. He had walked into class one afternoon to sweeten him up, when he saw Trelawney already taking charge of that job.

In fact Snape grew angry with him later onwards, and rumours started spreading faster than Hagrid's skrewts could commit genocide- they ranged from Draco stealing ingredients from his office to denying Snape sexual favours. Much to the boy's surprise- he did not like the new array of attention one bit.

It was then that Blaise decided, what he needed was hands-on manual action. They _borrowed _one of Pansy's blue dresses, and after a two-hour ordeal managed to get Crabbe to wear it, all the while experimenting charms on him (most which had nothing to do with Snape's robes). The curiosity was gnawing away at all their innards, but sadly Crabbe suffered an injury from one of Adrian's charm, which he swore was an accident, none too convincingly.

So it was up to Blaise to carry on the unusual tradition. The rest of the Slytherins had surrendered to defeat and went about business on their own (which was harassing the first years), but Blaise had kept to himself and the _borrowed_ dress in the boys' dorm. Everybody had figured he was still trying to the find the answer, and the praise he earned for possessing the true Slytherin attribute (_determination to succeed until the very end_) was getting to Draco so badly that even his beloved muggle music couldn'tsatisfy him.

_**Scenario 1**_

**Katy Perry**_**: Baby you're like a firework**_

**Malfoy**_**: So just explode and die bitch!**_

That was until one day –Blaise forgot to lock the door and Smith, Draco, and Parasite (Is-is that my d-dress?) walked in on him/her.

There he was Blaise- standing in the middle of the room prancing in Pansy's _borrowed_ dress; his biceps flexing. _And what was that? _

_Make up? _

_Jewels?_

_Lip-gloss?_

_Tweezers?_

_Lovely expensive silk boxers Malfoy had always wanted to buy but never got the chance to?_

Draco threw the tweezers aside and grabbed Blaise by the neck of his dress, thrusting his face so close to Smith that he was horrified to discover _he couldn't see any pores in Draco's skin. He was sickeningly beautiful._

"How dare you disgrace Slytherin!"

"It's not what it looks (gulp) like!" Blaise stammered.

Another intervention followed that evening, as a horrible sensation of déjà vu dawned upon him, and Malfoy couldn't stop running his fingers through the boxers of a revolted Blaise (and yes he was still wearing the dress when that happened).

Well you've got to give the poor boy some mercy- 7 fathers dying in unusual eye-cocking circumstances, and one beautiful intimidating mother who can't even remember his name or his father's- why wouldn't he try to experiment and fit it?

**X**

**Back to the Three Broomsticks…**

"Don't you remember Zabini? We were talking about her last night before Malfoy swore to Avada Kedavra our arses"

Blaise widened his eyes with the oh-now-I-get-it-look. The arrogant blonde stiffened.

"I've seen her around, quite a catch. I once ran into her one night in the kitchen- she actually saved me from the git Filch! She's different. Not like the other ninny Gryffs." added Smith "isn't she the one Flint had been fawning over last year?" "

"Well that is", Malfoy responded adding a sneer "until the _circumstances _changed"

Blaise was curious as to why, "she turned him down?"

"Who wouldn't? But that's beside the point", cackled Smith before spelling it out for him "_Bloodtraitor_"

"Well", responded Zabini forgetting the literally heated discussion they had about Ginny in the last ten minutes, "that still doesn't make her un-hot, but…I wouldn't go near her with a ten foot pole unless I want my mother to skin me alive"

Draco smiled inwardly.

"But you Malfoy on the other hand", continued Zabini, "have been passing her sloppy glances since the last week".

"Me? I won't even look at that Weasley girl, much less use her first name!" replied Draco vehemently.

Just then Ginny had passed by their table which was an ill-disguised frantic attempt to escape Hermione's lectures. But she had an offended look on her pretty face, as if ready to spit acid on the first Slytherin to cross her path. Adrian did not fail to notice that Ginny had heard the preceding comment, and an idea struck him faster than Trelawney could get her hands on Sherry…or Snape.

"Oh really now Draco?" he asked acerbically, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

"What?" the perplexed blond replied hastily. Adrian scooted closer to Blaise and whispered into his ears. Blaise covertly looked behind Draco's impeccably tailored suit, and pore-less face. Ginny was standing a couple of feet away, with her arms crossed, talking to Rosmerta; which was exactly close enough to hear on the boys conversation.

Without a doubt she had overheard Draco's comment. Adrian shot her a look of acknowledgement, and she knew what was coming. Draco didn't see the fiery redhead behind them. Blaise did not bother to keep his voice down, as he challenged the flaxen haired boy-

"Draco Malfoy, I challenge you, that is if you choose to accept, **NOT TO** use Ginevra Weasley's name- by the end of this week."

Draco snorted and then smirks, very Malfoy like. "Challenge accepted. What type of lame bet is that? No magic tampering whatsoever and if I win, which I indubitably will, you must promise me an entire year of History of Magic homework- completed and don't get sloppy on it"

Adrian smirked, Blaise was grinning from ear to ear.

"And if you don't" replied Adrian serenely

"You must steal a pair of Snape's underwear" – added Blaise.

"Blaise haven't you still gotten over the dress thingy?" Draco lowered his voice and asked in mock-concern.

"Shut up princess" replied Blaise coolly and smirked "that secret is between us, or else I tell everybody about that manicure set"

"MANICURE SET?" screeched Goyle looking utterly revolted and turned to face his, now **ex**-idol, as the group used the Ignore the Nearest Oaf Making You Look like a Weirdo maneuver, to escape questioning glances and glares.

Ginny walked away with a skip in her stride. Tomorrow would be a lovely day- she could feel it.

_Bring it on Princess._

**X**

* * *

**I think the dare might end up a bit um, smutty, but meh . LOL. So how was it?**


	5. Comic Relief

**Chapter: 4.5 … *shifty eyes***

**SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN AGES, it's just that life got in the way, and I'm in the middle of a Macbeth thesis =3='. *AWKWARD* &nd I'm extremely sorry that the following chapter does not have the challenge carried out (once again, life got in the way) But, this is pure comic relief, which is adding up till the serious part (the bet and the sex education class) And yes, it is necessary. THANK YOU FOR ALL THOSE AWESOME REVIEWS : ) keep 'em coming (:**

"Flying car?" Adrian interrupted snatching the magazine from a scandalized looking Blaise, "I want one!"

"I thought you wanted a flying motorbike?" asked Blaise, snatching the beloved item back.

"Times change" answered Adrian "I've grown up since then."

"It was last night."

Adrian opened and closed his mouth, and shifty eyes indicated he certainly had a say in this. In stead a flash of auburn from the corners of his eyes brought more serious matters into hand (not that Smith thought flying cars weren't serious).

"Look Zabini, she's here. You can go and talk now" he said pointedly to the girl on the far right corner now with a more serious tone "I'll be on the lookout." As he left, Smith passed a look over is shoulders directed towards Blaise. It seemed to translate into if-she-kills-you-don't-worry-I'm-still-here.

Ginny Weasley was standing in the library rifling through a shelf of books when someone grabbed her shoulders. She shrieked, and swung around so violently that the person lost his misjudged balance. Looking down, she was not particularly surprised to see Zabini lying on the bare carpet, glaring up at her.

Ginny flushed as she reached out a hand to pull him up.

"Wow, a Gryff actually helped me out. Are you on crack or something?"

"Funny," Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, "Zabini, absolutely hilarious. I can't do one nice thing for you, can I?"

"No Weasley, you can't, not if you've got this big mission coming up. It's best to keep such courtesies to a minimum."

The Gryff cocked an eyebrow in disbelief -"mission? I really wouldn't call it a mission."

"Hmm now, let's see" Blaise retorted sardonically tracing a svelte finger across the book spines "extensive planning, hiding out in the library, conspiracy between a Gryff and a Slytherin, sacrificing my piece of shepherd's pie to Goyle this morning just to meet you? It's definitely a mission."

He thrust an open book in front of Ginny's freckled nose. She took it, and began reading, occasionally chuckling to. After she finished a few pages, she thrust it back into Zabini's hands. "I told you" she repeated for the umpteenth time "I'm not going to use magic." Blaise looked utterly bewildered. "Why not?"

"You made the rules yourself, and I'm simply following them."

"So?"

So? _So?__**So?**_**So? **_Oh these Slytherins_**.**

Ginny took a deep breath. "Just, take his wand. I can handle it from there."

"This is going to be interesting."

There was no use arguing, and Blaise left the library in hopes of catching up with Smith.

"That bad was it?" asked Adrian wisely as Zabini came to view as the two of them walked through the corridors.

"As predicted, she's not going to use magic."

"That's okay." comforted Adrian. "Trust me, that girl always gets her way in the end; I've seen it first hand" he ended remembering that time he had a near death experience with Mrs. Norris.

"Yes I know she flicked a fried fish to the cat, but this is Draco we're talking about. Sure, just like a cat he's-"

"-Lazy"

"And pompous"

"And thinks he owns the world"

"And rolls in galleons in his past time"

"And doesn't share his shepherd's pie"

"And" Blaise opened his mouth to let the words roll out, but then stopped at the realization of the preceding conversation " er- whatever it is, I hope she has some tricks up her sleeve because fired fish won't help."

"Look on the bright side, "said Smith with a cheshire grin, placing a hand on Blaise's shoulder "either way, it's going to be _interesting_."

"_Bright side_? You're such a Hufflepuff" said Blaise along the lines of some ill-forgotten inside joke.

"Ooh. Does that mean you want a hug?" added Adrian sarcastically in mock concern, as he ran a hand through his sandy brown hair pouting. Blaise looked utterly disgusted and looked as if he'd start a singing about self serenading any time soon.

"Adrian Smith, please keep your hands to yourself for the sake of my health, and robes."

Adrian snorted, clearly annoyed at how Zabini lacked a sense of humour- but the priceless look that adorned his face seemed to be worth it. It's only once in awhile that Miss/Mr. Perfect cracks.

"Don't get upset Smith, look on the bright side- when you're running away from me trying to kill you for such unwanted advances, you'll still have your flying car to keep you company" said Blaise " wait, I forgot- **no you won't**."

"We're going to miss breakfast" said Adrian sullenly. Murdering his best friend and Hogwarts resident womanizer might have to wait for another day, it seemed.

Ginny looked around once the unwanted company had left and took a big green book from the shelves after some meticulous judging. She swung on a heel, and walked out of the library as well. _I think I still may have some time for breakfast. _

**(AN: I wonder what that book's about :3?No, not the magic Blaise suggested ever so kindly =3=)**

As the stream of radiance filtered in through the glass paned windows of the seemingly empty library, creases of a shadow flickered across the pale walls swimming in and out if view. It was the shadow of a certain cerulean eyed wizard in the far corner smiling, indulged in his own thoughts. _Seems like my plan has been working even before it has begun_.

Ginny sat down with her group of friends and donned an impassive expression to mollify the upcoming questions. "Where've you been?" inquired Luna pouring some porridge into Ginny's empty bowl.

"Library. Just some research" answered Ginny as short and straightforward as possible to hinder any more questions. Ron cocked an eyebrow and stared at Hermione in mock amusement- "You're rubbing off on her aren't you?"

"That's not funny" said Hermione. Harry figured they were having those arguments where they don't say much, and everything blows over in a few days…hopefully.

"Let me tell you" said Ron with a dark look embellishing his freckled face as he scanned all those seated near him "what **isn't **funny… Last night, I swear on Merlin's beard _I saw Filch and_-"

Before Ron could finish Hermione hit him repeatedly with a rolled up _Quidditch Quibbler_ which had obviously been in Harry's possession up till now, and in the midst of the ruckus looked as if it had been conjured from thin air.

"Ron Bilius Weasley!" Hermione said exasperatedly between thwacks, "Stop with the Filch and Mrs. Norris theory!"

The entire group rang out with laughter; all except Ginny who kept passing nervous glances towards the Slytherin table where her unsuspecting blonde to-be-victim was dueling over Smith for a piece of pie.

Harry mused as to how Hermione would've been a good addition to the Gryffindor Quidditch team with those stunning reflexes, but, pity, her flying was as useful as Percy on a broomstick. Neville covertly mused about the same drama displayed prominently before her. Maybe, he thought, all those years of raising her hand in class paid off?

**6 minutes later**

"That was an interesting breakfast" Neville declared, licking his lips nervously, evidently thinking up some convoluted plot to write to his Grandmother if she caught a whiff of these circumstances.

"Would've been even better if you hadn't got us all chucked out for screaming about that ridiculous Filch theory" said Hermione pointedly at Ron.

"Actually it was your thwacking…" came the imperceptible reply from the back. It had been Luna, but the two who had been bickering didn't hear a word or chose not to. If looks could kill, those two would have been killed, resurrected and killed again.

"I had a natural urge" Ron retorted petulantly.

"Yet you ask me to restrain my far more natural impulses to correct you on such disgusting accusations of bestiality" Hermione sighed, picked up the cause of the problem, and whacked a numb Ron over the head who made no advances to stop the mutilation.

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other understanding and took inward breaths of surrendering.

"Love is a very interesting phenomenon…" came Luna's analysis.

"Let's get to class mates!" screamed Harry in efforts to calm down the storm.

"Oh…" said Hermione coming to her senses, or out of them "we'll be late!"

"Thanks mate" croaked Ron as they made their way to their respective classes.

**Epic cliffhanger. Are we ready to see what horrors lie beyond? O.o**

**I've gotten numerous faves, and alerts but please *does sickening puppy dog eyes* a review wouldn't hurt :3 c'mon it's not that bad right? **


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